Month: January 2013

Spaghetti Squash Baked “Pasta” Boats

In my childhood spelling bees, we all stood in a little line and the teacher called out words that, had we confronted them on paper, would’ve appeared totally innocuous. When tossed at our blank 6th-grade stares like a verbal grenade, however, they might as well have been spoken in Swahili. I remember wanting so badly to win the bee at least one year; I was a great writer and speller, so it only made sense that I should win, right? Each bee, though, I would realize that oral competitions had a tricky logic all their own. Before long, I’d reach the inevitable moment where the letters I’d already said and the letters I still needed to say would combine in a sticky, confusing web in my brain.

One year “eclipse” was my downfall.

The next year, “monotonous.”

Now that I’m a teacher, I’ve noticed you can learn a lot about your students during a classroom spelling bee.

For instance, I learned that Chase is very conscientious.

On his turn, he got the word “obituary.” A funny look came over his face. “Ms. Ruble, is it okay if . . . well, while I’m spelling this word, I might spell a . . .,” he struggled to complete his thought. I realized where he was going and had to stifle a laugh.

“Just spell it however you think it’s spelled and it will be fine, Chase.”

He began, “O-b-i-t-c-h–“

Once he had finished and I had corrected his spelling, we had to pause the bee for a moment. We were all laughing uncontrollably, Chase included, and I was in no position to call the next word.

I also learned that Shreena is cursed. While students around her got words like “platoon” and “pantheon,” she ended up with “hors d’oeuvres” and “delinquency.” Aubrey shook her head and patted Shreena’s shoulder sympathetically.

I want you to know that I have never in my life spelled hors d’oeuvres correctly without looking it up, and I’m the language arts teacher and a food blogger and I took 5 and a half years of French.

I also learned that Will has flair.

When he messed up the first letter of a word, instead of just giving up, he gave it the most creative alternate spelling he could come up with. I think there was a Q, Z, and even a 3 in there.

I learned that none of my students — at least, none who received the word — can spell “deodorant.” I made sure to teach them how, just in case they would otherwise have trouble finding it in the grocery store. I might have also mentioned how middle school is the ideal time to begin wearing said product if they’ve not already done so. Just a quick side lesson for good measure.

Finally, I learned that my students rock (honestly, I already knew this.) Augury, fabulist, vernal, inimitable, salubrious, compendium, and nominative are just a few of the words they spelled correctly.

The spelling bee is fun for so many reasons — not least of all because it’s a simple “lesson plan” day for me. I have a simple dinner plan waiting for me tonight, too. I first saw these little squash boats on Skinnytaste, a blog I love, and couldn’t believe what a quick and healthy dinner fix they were. I tweaked mine with a little turkey pepperoni, and now I can’t stop whipping up this dish each night. I hope you love it too.

One year ago: Caramelized Banana Upside-Down Coconut Cake & Coconut Whipped Cream
Two years ago: Lemon Berry Crumble Breakup Bars
Three years ago: Pecan Maple Bacon Pancakes

Spaghetti Squash Baked “Pasta” Boats



Recipe by: Adapted from Skinnytaste
Yield: 2 servings

This baked “pasta” recipe is so quick and simple — it makes good use of the microwave and spaghetti squash to create a satisfying, comforting meal without the added calories and carbs from regular pasta. Each serving comes in around 470 calories, 45 grams net carbs (discounting the 12 grams fiber), and 24 grams of protein with a 2.5 pound squash (data from SparkPeople).

Ingredients:
1 medium/large spaghetti squash (mine was about 2.5 pounds)
30 slices turkey pepperoni, chopped (leave out for a vegetarian meal)
1 1/2 cup jarred vodka pasta sauce
3 tablespoons chopped fresh basil
about 1-2 ounces mozzarella cheese
1 teaspoon salt or to taste (less for a smaller squash)
pepper to taste

Directions:
Halve the squash and scrape out the seeds and fibers in the middle. Poke a few holes in each half. Microwave the squash, one half at a time, for 9-10 minutes each half.

Preheat the broiler. While microwaving the squash, place the chopped pepperoni, vodka sauce, basil (reserving a bit for topping), and salt and pepper in a medium bowl. When the squash is finished and has cooled for a couple of minutes, use two forks to scrape the squash flesh into the bowl (it will separate into spaghetti-like “noodles”), reserving the squash skins to serve as bowls. Mix the squash and sauce mixture well until all ingredients are distributed. Divide this mixture into your two squash bowls.

Top each squash half with mozzarella cheese and a little more freshly ground pepper. Broil for a few minutes until bubbly. Remove and top with the reserved fresh basil. Serve hot.

Boozy Icebox Cake

My students teach me life lessons every day.

That’s something teachers are supposed to say in order to earn their Good Teacher Badge, but for me it’s also true. For example, this past Thursday I found myself in a complicated situation on the internet (oh, the internet), and handling it live with my students’ input proved to be one of the most educational experiences I think we’ve had all year. It all started with a negative book review . . .

At the beginning of 7th grade, my students read a young adult mystery novel set in Japan. It’s not my favorite book in terms of writing or character development, but it serves my purpose each year: to introduce them to Japan in an engaging and accessible way, and to serve as a backdrop and vehicle, respectively, for our more in-depth studies of haiku and essay organization in class. Essentially, I have my reasons for keeping it in the curriculum, but I don’t personally love it.

On my personal account on a popular book review site, I said as much. The site is designed to allow you to share book reviews and ratings with friends, so I felt perfectly comfortable giving my honest and blunt opinion. It was around four years ago when I reviewed the novel, saying, in short, that the simplicity of the book annoyed me.

Imagine my surprise when the author of the book himself — I’ll call him Snarky McSnarkerson — responded to my review. He was defensive and implied that the reason I didn’t like his book was because, basically, I’m a stuffy old teacher who’s not in touch with what kids actually like. This was funny to me, since part of what draws me to middle school language arts is my adoration of young adult literature.

I responded with a touch of sarcasm. It was not the most angelic response, but also not inappropriate. In class, I mentioned the exchange to my students and expressed my surprise over the whole affair. It didn’t occur to me that they might search for the review online, but a few of them found it and also responded to Snarky McSnarkerson. I was proud of how they were supportive of me but also classy and mature in their responses, not resorting to rudeness or immature name-calling. Indeed, they were quite a bit more mature than Snarky McSnarkerson himself! I thanked them but also asked that they no longer fuel the discussion.

A few years passed. Then, this past Thursday, I received another response from McSnarkerson out of the blue.

In his new response, he not only insulted me (saying that maybe someday my students would get a “real teacher”), but also my students (pointing out the grammatical errors in their posts). I was livid. I responded curtly to McSnarkerson himself and posted about the situation on Facebook (where it was promptly shared by a prominent author). In disbelief, I told my current students about the situation, being careful this time to ask them not to contribute to the online exchange. They were all outraged to hear of McSnarkerson’s rudeness and his unfair implications, just like I had been.

I knew this was a ripe teaching moment about how to navigate the internet, and how in the real world, we can vote with our wallets (I’d already told McSnarkerson I wouldn’t be using his book anymore). But I didn’t expect for my students to be quite the wonderful teachers they turned out to be!

We chatted about the inevitable urge to gang up on someone with friends online, and how we must remember that to do so would be cruel. We talked about the difference between responding to be nasty and responding with a thoughtful point. We remembered examples of when people had been unkind to others in groups — like the comments on Rebecca Black’s music video, “Friday,” and how they must have made her feel.

While we were discussing the uncertainty involved in handling an online disagreement effectively, my unfailingly positive and practical student, Lauren, raised her hand. She humbly offered the class, “I learned that if you stop responding to someone and fueling a situation, it usually goes away.” I think her comment literally stopped me in my tracks. What a novel idea. Wasn’t I supposed to be the one saying the wise, mature stuff? I laughed.

“That’s a great point, Lauren. So maybe I shouldn’t have responded to McSnarkerson at all? Or maybe I shouldn’t have responded to his newest comment? And, oh. Maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned it on Facebook?” The whole class paused with me. We all shifted and grinned uneasily. A new discussion had begun: Could Ms. Ruble have navigated the internet in a more effective way?

In true language arts style, we journaled about it. I told them to imagine that they’d left a negative review of Harry Potter and J.K. Rowling had just sent them a nasty comment (we all agreed this scenario was ridiculous — who doesn’t love Harry Potter and Rowling? — but for the sake of journaling, they used their imagination.) They had to first write their initial impulse, and then think of at least two better strategies they could use to handle it productively.

I was so proud of their suggestions. They proposed:

-Write out the response you’d initially want to post, but then ball it up and throw it away instead.
-Write a response, but instead of posting it, send it to someone you trust to edit it.
-Write a response, but instead of immediately posting it, wait 24 hours and then revise it to make sure it’s productive and kind.
-Don’t respond at all.
-No matter what you do, don’t share the situation with others to gang up or gossip, because it creates a bigger problem.

I love when real-life situations come about that they can learn from. I love it even more when they can learn from someone else’s mistakes instead of their own — even if those mistakes are mine! My initial goal in posting my frustrations and a link to the exchange on Facebook was to bring to public light the author’s unkind actions. If I had it to do over again, though, I might handle it in a different way (this is the reason I’m not naming the author or linking to the exchange in this post). Maybe I’d use one of the effective ways my students proposed. And instead of public shaming, I can “voice” my feelings about McSnarkerson by not buying his products.

I appreciate these kids more each and every day.

* * *

After all that tension, I needed to whip up an easy dessert this weekend, and there is nothing easier than an icebox cake. Icebox cakes layer wafer or sandwich cookies with billowy whipped cream and then chill it to form a delicious, velvety, cake-like dessert. I decided to spike my cream with some almond liqueur for a tasty zing, and now I can’t stop eating this thing. I love that something that takes 5 minutes to prepare can end up so pretty and tasty. Enjoy!

How do you effectively handle disagreements online, where it’s so much easier to be unkind or act rashly?

One year ago: Healthy Roasted Tomato and Onion Bread Soup
Two years ago: Willow Bird Baking’s Best of 2010
Three years ago: Pumpkin Cheesecake Bread Pudding

Boozy Icebox Cake



Recipe by: Adapted from Smitten Kitchen, originally adapted from The Magnolia Bakery Cookbook
Yield: 6-8 servings

Icebox Cake is so easy, fast, and delicious. It’s probably the dessert with the biggest bang for your buck. This version is made with oreo cookies and a bunch of whipped cream — and Amaretto for a zing! The cream softens the oreos as they chill overnight into a velvety, cake-like dessert.

Ingredients:
3 cups heavy cream
1/4 cup almond liqueur (like Amaretto) (optional)
3 tablespoons sugar
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
2 packages chocolate sandwich cookies (like Oreos)*
*You might want an extra package on hand in case your trifle dish is larger.

Directions:
Fit a mixer with a whisk attachment and whisk the heavy cream, almond liqueur (if using), sugar, and vanilla extract together in a large chilled bowl until it forms soft peaks. In a trifle dish, arrange a single layer of oreo cookies (for my dish, I used between 8-11 cookies per layer, since the sides flare outward) in a circle, with a cookie or two in the middle. Carefully spread about a 1/2 cup of whipped cream over this first layer. Repeat layering cookies and whipped cream, ending with a layer of whipped cream on top. Crumble a last cookie over the top. Cover and refrigerate overnight before serving.